Endless Sky
by iPolaris
Summary: Where are you now? What are you doing? Those are what he wanted to ask as he looked up above him after ten years later for the first time. "Are you in this endless sky?" ; oneshot • – possible hints of 5927


**A/N: **iPolaris here, and this is my first fic here in KHR! This took me two days and a weekend, but it was worth it. This is also my first attempt in writing Shounen–Ai, with Gokudera and Tsuna, but I feel like this is _not _really Shounen–Ai at all. /facepalm

Well, it's up to you guys out there to decide on what you want or what you see between these two. This one-shot is based on a piano version of _Higarashi _something which I really don't know, and has a KHR PV in YouTube which inspired me of 'what ifs' about Gokudera, our lovable Hurricane Bomb.

Feel free to PM me for the link of that video if you're interested, and feel free to leave comments/reviews/suggestions/opinions/grammar lessons/constructive criticisms/dynamites you want to throw at me.

Damn, seeing Tsuna in a coffin is just... _damn_. ;_; /eats tissues

**Summary: **_Where are you now? What are you doing?_ Those are what he wanted to ask as he looked up above him after ten years later for the first time. "Are you in this endless sky?" ; oneshot • – possible hints of 5927  
**Warning: **Mild swearing, Hayato Gokudera, OOC-ness, but meh, I tried my best, you know.  
**Disclaimer: **You don't own this, too.

This fic is un-beta'd. I claim thy mistakes.

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"_You should just do as you please, like you always do."_

**– Endless Sky –**

* * *

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

He had always wondered a thing that bothered him most of the time, which he would always bury in the back of his mind, since his eyes can see its logic, anyway.

What is really up _there_?

It was the simplest question, yet the hardest one to answer. It was the most baffling query he once thought of when he heard the word 'S_ky_'.

Stars, the moon, comets, space – it was all related to it. Add astronomy, a vital keyword; a study of different things up there. In common sense, it was a huge dome, an imaginary blanket of what shade of color the air scatters, a certain distance above the surface of the Earth; a celestial dome, he even noted, remembering what he had known ever since he was young. That even came in fiction, depicted sometimes as Heavens and the like. For that reason, this sphere was also considered as celestial.

But, how come does it give _warmth_?

It was no ball of fire like the sun, the Sky is. He knew that; it was a firm fact. Somehow, no matter what he did to find the answer, he would always fail, and whenever he looked up, he would always feel defeated, cheated, and even _lost_, for he could not decipher a thing he had always known. Or what he thought he knew.

As far as the Storm Guardian of the Vongola could remember, Gokudera Hayato was always alone. He always _was_.

His only companions were his books, his precious musical instrument, besides from his Father who were always away, and his older sibling. In a large room of his was where he would always stay, and various people would come to teach him, since 'school' wasn't a part of a vocabulary of what he would call a 'family', that group of people with blood ties.

At a young age, Hayato believed love – his love for his books, his love for his keyboard, and most of all, his _love _for his family. He _loves _them. But, there came a point where what he'd always known right became wrong.

The silver–haired boy became frustrated in this point, for he realized that he didn't really _know _the essence of what his mind held. He tried his best to read, read, read, and _read_ all the books he can uncover, search the hundreds of piled texts located in their marvelous library, and ask his 'teachers' of what it meant. And they would always give him the same answer; and he would always notice that the answer was one of what he had read a million times. Hayato would often point out that he had read them, and he would ask for the _essence_, but they would always avoid expanding the topic.

He even tried to come to his Father for assistance, but as he would come to his room once he's home at night, he would lack the strength to open the door, even knock on it first, for he was concerned of the man who wanted to rest. Hayato would always leave his Father alone, so that his old man would not be worried over trivial things if ever; a real man finds his own answers, that's the way Hayato believed, even if he needed to sacrifice his dear life to ask his sister, then so be it.

It was not that Hayato hated his sister, and you couldn't say that they're pretty close – His sister and he are not the same; they have differences, especially to likes, dislikes, attitude, and preferences. But, it was safe to say that they were on _good_ terms, even if Bianchi was the core reason of a painful trauma he was about to experience in front of hundreds of people on the night weeks after in his own piano recital, even if those (idiotic) people thought that the piece he had played was _abstract, _which made him feel _worse _(didn't they have _normal_ ears?), and even if her poison cooking was the _worst _food (if it were _still considered_ as a 'food' on this planet) his stomach ever digested.

"Love conquers all," was what the girl with dark pink hair said to him with a faint smile on her lips, evidently, because this was a rare chance with her beloved brother, who asked her a thing for the first time, and obviously glad for he asked a thing she really _knew_. "If you no longer believe in the person you know, then test him until you are satisfied."

Replying her back of asking _her_ ("What about you?") made him note that _never _to snap back _intelligently_ at Bianchi; never dare to _challenge_. And never dare to ask. Seriously, just don't ask what hell happened afterwards.

Sooner or later, Hayato just gave up in the end. There was no good, and because of this distraction, he didn't realize that his routines everyday were unorganized. That hit him. Wasn't that nice –a change of scenery, a change of situations? Ah, but even though that was a good point, remembering that he didn't know _something_ fully irritated him so much. Ask him about science, he'll explain its fields fully; ask him arithmetic, expect to be put in shame by a young boy who would give you the complete answer to your tricky and _sneaky _college Math problem.

Hayato was satisfied of himself that he knew _everything _they would ask him, but to know yet do not understand the simplest thing a toddler even know is degrading. It really _irritated _him so much that he decided to read more, research more, and study more on his own.

Until one day.

That day he looked up outside for the first time.

Clutching his aching forehead in frustration, he led out a sigh as his headaches grew worse; he'd taken medicines lately, given by the family Doctor he didn't see much, and even after they soothed his head, the headaches would occur again. Hayato decided to go out of his balcony outside his room.

Looking up, he saw birds flying up there, as its cool and gentle winds blew towards him. That made him wonder so much; what did it have to make it so peaceful, so beautiful? He just suppressed a smile to himself, as he started to like the Sky. How he wished that it would accept him, just like every single thing, and that he would fly freely within it, soaring from above. A childish wish it was, but appropriate for his age; he made it his desire. Hayato wanted _that_ – it had always calmed him down, and it made him relieved of thinking so much about his family and every other thing.

Since then, the turquoise–eyed boy would always come out and sit on the grasses on their gardens, as he would always lie down to watch the Sky. If he couldn't, he'd often come out of his balcony from his room after his studies, and see it first thing after he'd done his chores.

Hayato _loved_ watching the wide, vast Sky.

He disliked it when it turned dark at nights, since there were so many sparkling things within it. The stars seemed to always dare him, and that would turn Hayato on for a fight whenever it was night. Seemed stupid, but it was not to Hayato; and he would just lie to himself, as he started to like the stars within the deep blue dome above him. The sky was very intriguing, and he was very interested to see its new sides – but, he would prefer to see it fine in the day.

. . .

. . .

. . .

_Finally_, his lessons were over the next day quickly.

Hayato ran to the gardens, as there was no one around. He jumped to lie on his back on the soft, green grasses as his eyes turned to watch the Sky today. What he saw next was surprising. His eyebrows twitched in annoyance as his eyebrows clashed.

There were hindrances. There were clouds. And not just _any _cloud, they were _gray. _Hayato shivered a bit when the winds touched his skin; they were cold as ice and _very _violent, for if he weren't a bit built, he would fly away like a stick. He had no choice, but to observe the odd activity of the Sky in his room.

The silver–head grumpily watched as he sat on his long, black chair that matched his black piano. He pouted, cursing those annoying clouds that brought rain, strong winds and pitch darkness to the once serene sky.

"Storm," a gentle voice snapped him out of his train of thoughts. He answered a small "Ah," as he noticed that familiar long lustrous–haired woman who visited him in his room in seldom times every year. Come to think of it, what time was it now that she greeted him again?

The woman in her white dress approached him, as her hands touched the keyboard.

"Are you afraid of it?"

"Of what?" he asked with a high tone for he felt challenged that the woman gestured, making him feel at ease afterwards.

Hayato didn't really know who this woman is; she would always refuse to say what her relation she has to him, and she would just tell that they're pretty close as it would seem. She would just tell him that she's _only _his teacher in piano, and she would just give her name that meant 'Woman of Rome'; her gentle and soft personality won't just fit her possible name, as he'd think, anyway, even if her name is Lavina.

And as he could feel, there was something more to this woman, something _off _that he couldn't distinguish, but he could say that he was very _fond _of her – that he never forgot her angelic face even if they almost see each other like three times every year. It was maybe because he can relate this woman to the Sky – they're peaceful, unpredictable, and held mystery he couldn't grasp. He liked her very much; everything related to her.

Once, he even tried to find what perfume she'd use, for it'll stay whenever she went, and the way she laughed when she found out that Hayato was trying to decode what fragrance she'd use was very _pretty_; it was as if were chime of the bells whenever the wind blows.

"That weather which brings fear, disturbance and sometimes, _destruction_," she replied as her calm–looking aquamarine eyes bore into his, back to reality. Hayato turned to see her face, a face he couldn't read. He was good at reading faces, and Hayato never seemed to crack this woman like every person (except Bianchi) in the whole place, and he wondered how she managed to persuade him into playing the piano.

"Are _you _afraid?" he retorted cleverly for he noticed that there was something _different _with her usual expressions. She only widened her eyes at him, as the young one seemed to catch her off–guard, and she grinned at him mischievously this time.

"W–Well," Said woman started, as she played with her pale hair with her slender fingers. "You could say that. I _was _afraid of the Storm back then, but not anymore."

He couldn't help, but ask again a question. The woman chuckled, giving him an answer he didn't expect out of many. It was _her _opinion, not an actual answer, and that made him glad, for he heard a thing he couldn't find in his books and that he didn't need to point it out that he knew that (which he didn't) to her like what he did to his tutors.

The silver–head had decided.

He'd discover the Storm.

. . .

. . .

. . .

His turquoise eyes would always, _always_ search the Heavens for the Storm.

Hayato disliked it in the start, since it would always block the Sky, but he remembered what the woman told him every time he'd think that he disliked the Storm. It made him more interested and curious about it; soon, he would wish that the day would just go in the way of the Storm, and he realized that he liked it, too, after his eyes would see what change it'd brought to the outsides after it subsided. He realized what good the Storm did to everything, like she described to him perfectly.

But, he still loved how the Sky would be radiant every single day.

Until it grew darker than ever the day he found out his hidden 'Storm'.

Hayato stood before them, as his elder sister looked at him with surprise, and his Father just averted his gaze. The silver–head flicked his wavering greenish–blue orbs, as he shook uncontrollably from where he stood, to the maids who just bowed their heads just to avoid his accusing eyes. With his hoarse voice, he asked them if they _knew_, and their silence just confirmed it.

He bit his lower lip, as he tried to stop himself from bursting. Bianchi gathered the strength to walk towards him, in hopes of comforting her younger brother, but he just slapped her hand away when she tried to reach him. Hayato blamed them; he screamed his hatred of them, his disappointment, his _rights_ to people who hid something he _should _know, which was more painful, since it was to be really _known _after he was born.

He didn't dare to look back, as his feet carried him away from that fated meeting. He didn't care whether he made Bianchi cry, or shamed the maids, or even made his Father angry or _what_. Hayato didn't give a single _damn _about it, and he was proud, so proud that he finally obeyed his own _wishes _for the first time.

The lustrous–haired child fought his way to see her, to see her smile brightly at him once more, to see her praise him whenever he did play the piano properly. He began to crave to see her lovely features, whenever she played with her long, silver–colored hair when she was thinking, whenever she'd blink her sea–green eyes at him when he surprised her. He wanted to feel her soft and assuring touch once again, whenever they had a time on playing the piano together, to feel her assuring glow whenever she'd try to cheer him up when he was having a bad day.

He wanted to feel and see her, not as his piano teacher, not as a familiar visitor, or any other pretentious figure; he wanted to see her once again as his _mother._

Hayato didn't catch a glimpse of her, as the Storm took her away from him.

* * *

_. ._ .

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. . .

. . .

. . .

"_It's inevitable for the Storm to destroy everything in its path; its property of disintegration will never be held back, no matter how hard the other factors of the above would try just to calm it down or even try to change it. That's the storm's personality, and that's what makes it unique out of other weathers…"_

Hayato would always watch the sky.

Not in their gardens anymore, or not from his own room either; but, from his _own _place, that place which he could call _his_. He didn't wait for their petty excuses; he didn't wait for them to comfort him like a kid or to feed him with inexcusable lies. He did what's best for him – he ran away from what he called 'home'.

Anywhere, anywhere would do, that was what he thought at first, as he held his belongings in a suitcase–_any place would do_. He thought of various people his family had influenced, he noted every person he became acquainted with, and every day, he'd try his best to gather his guts and deal with himself on how he would ask them for their assistance. But, whenever he was in front of their door, he just won't knock; he can't bring himself to make a sound to know he's there.

What was he thinking? Those people were associated with his _family_, not _him_. Gokudera Hayato is different from _them_; he isn't a part of them anymore. He separated with them, he put them behind his back, and he'd never think of going back. There was no turning back.

At that point, he would just do anything to support himself, starting with small jobs of little shops to bigger jobs of middle–classed stores. Ah, but no one would accept a child, a child with no background, a child with a talent only for music. He was still young, and Hayato damned himself for being a _kid_; he wanted to _grow up_ immediately, in an instant.

That was when he thought of joining a 'family' of a world unknown to him, or better yet, he could make his _own _'family'.

_Tch_, what another fabricated lie, he told to his younger self. Who needed a 'family'? He could stand by himself; weaklings are people who cling to others. Hayato isn't weak, he could do _anything _by himself – he could support himself. It was better for him to be alone – no, he wasn't alone. He had the Sky above him.

But, it wasn't true; he _knew _it wasn't. Hayato led a hard life in the beginning as he tried to stand on his own feet, but he always ended up going back onto the ground, as people stepped on him. Rich scoundrels, annoying bastards… those who had power and abilities stepped on him, squished him as if he was a bug. Hayato learned it the difficult way.

And he met him on a cloudy day unexpectedly.

That perverted Doctor he just caught picking up his supposedly sixty–second 'sister'.

"Teach me how to be strong," Hayato pleaded, as he begged on his knees at 'Trident Shamal', who stared at him boringly with those hard, brown orbs of his. Hayato realized that he was pathetic to do that, but if that was a way to his goal, then, he better do it with his remaining pride. Hayato wasn't _that _dumb; he needed to acknowledge his _weakness _in order to be strong, to be strong to stand on his own, and to be strong enough to kick people's asses, those who didn't deserve to live in his view.

He still remembered how the Doctor laughed amusingly when he found out how Hayato spoke his _own _language, and how his younger self tried to be an adult in such an early age with a hellish training they did with his own mediums, instead of the Doctor's 'trident mosquitoes' he was always fascinated with.

With explosives he chose as he medium, he vowed to train more and more, and always sharpen his skills to become strong in order to reach his goal, that's why Hayato would always watch the sky more afterwards.

He would skip his classes in an institution which Shamal forced him to, and he didn't give a single fuck about it, even if he was near to be expelled, if it weren't for the fact that the Principal needed students with the brains like him to boast it to other schools in Italy.

He was content with his distance from anyone; he didn't want anyone to go near him. They were _annoying, _and Hayato hated to be annoyed_. _Being alone was fine; Hayato was alright, even if he's with himself. He never felt a need for anyone since he disliked company, and the only company he tolerated was with Shamal.

He _never_ cared if he's alone… or was it as he thought?

But, whenever Hayato looked up, he would always try to search her with his dry, turquoise eyes, even if he seemed _changed_.

He had enough of crying his eyes out of its sockets for her, for how he lived his life before he knew the truth, and he was ready.

"…_Although many people hated the Storm for bringing destruction it couldn't avoid in doing so, I liked how it washed away the Earth and cleanse everything, even if it's rough and rash in its own way of process. I would always love how everything will look beautiful afterwards, especially when I see how humans stand together to build more well_–_formed things that they lost."_

Hayato was ready to face the world; he was ready to reach his goal.

"Ciaossu! Are you 'Smokin' Bomb Hayato'?"

Using his other free hand, the silver–haired teen removed his cigarette from his mouth, as he answered the mysterious caller in a rough tone while he stood up in a sluggish motion, walking toward the rails of the rooftop as he gazed up.

"Yeah, what the hell do you want?"

Hayato swore to himself, that he'd never let what important things to him go, and he'd never ask the sky again of _where they are now,_ or _what they were even doing_.

To the goal to reach a Sky he had always admired.

. . .

. . .

. . .

The mafia boss is a leader who rules a criminal organization. Able to move a number of trusted members with one hand, willing to risk even his life for the family, surrounded by the respect and admiration of all, seen as a hero by the children of the slums…

In short, the Leader of a _Famiglia _must be well in all aspects, and most of all, must have the _balls _to run a huge organization that consisted of bloodhounds and respected men.

When Hayato reached Japan, he wasn't expecting some bullshit joke about a kid his age with _serious _shit problems who was chosen to be the next Boss of Vongola Family, the most powerful and influential organization out of organizations of Mafia back in Italy.

The moment he observed the kid when he came to his supposed school as a transfer student from his country, Hayato was consumed with an uncontrollable rage. This brat hit a vein of his, and he didn't know why he was easily _irritated_, even if he didn't do something to him. How the silver–head wanted to congratulate the brown–haired kid for pissing him off for no reason! Or maybe there_ was_ a reason at all; oh, maybe because the kid looked like a pathetic weakling that deserved to die?

He scoffed, as he watched from an unnoticed corner, as he puffed his cigarette. Was this boy really fated to be the Tenth Vongola Boss? Was he really_ even_ considered? Sawada Tsunayoshi (_was it_? Hayato asked himself) lacked it all – the charisma of a leader, the knowledge enough to make men fall before him on their knees, and the strength; it was obvious that a mad man would only make this stupid boy a successor of the strongest mafia organization located in the heart of Italy, instead of professional assassins and other worthy candidates.

Hayato disliked him already; he disliked how this small kid resembled himself from the past somehow, how this kid showed how _weak_ he was when he tried to take on the world. He would _never_ bow before someone like him, he'd mused; a miracle would _definitely _be needed if that were to happen. Hayato swore to himself that he'd _never _lose to someone so weak like that frail guy.

_If fighting this idiot a way to reach 'it', then let me do it._

It really made him wonder, that Sawada boy. Somehow, that annoying moron piqued his interest; his love for knowledge within him rose again, as if a dried lake which was revived again in an oasis within a desert. The moment his eyes locked with those honey–colored orbs, Hayato was ticked off. That was the first time a guy didn't even flinch when he sent out a killing intent.

Wow, maybe this Sawada is _interesting_ after all.

Hayato wanted to test this boy of what he could do.

"Your wussyness is an eyeful," he commented dryly, as he heard the boy panted from behind him. Probably chased out by bullies as usual, he mused, since those details were provided by his caller the other day. He really wanted to kill this guy so badly, and now, here was the chance. They're alone, and they're hidden. What perfect timing.

The weakling asked him such useless questions, irritating him more, especially with how the weakling delivered it innocently, as if he wasn't a boss. Ah, yes, Hayato forgot, _he _was supposed to be the boss, Hayato was. He'd take the title from this guy, and wipe him off the face of the Earth. His plan sounded good.

Hayato released his 'friends' within his hands, as he lit them with his cigarette from his mouth. Throwing his dynamites at the wuss, he bade him farewell. But, he was more irritated for the fact that there was a bullet which passed and took off the light from his sticks of doom.

It was even more irritating when he saw that it came from a baby, sitting on a window nonchalantly. But, Hayato respected him, even if he was a baby; according to what he'd heard, Reborn is the most powerful assassin who ever lived, and he was the Ninth Vongola Boss' highly trusted ally. The silver–head even became delighted when the assassin approved with what he wanted to do with Sawada.

Then, without a word, said brunette ran for his life while they were talking. How impolite this brat is, Hayato thought, as he released his dynamites with a popping vein.

"_This is it_," he muttered sharply, when he finally cornered the pest in a dead end after a cat and mouse chase. If he killed this guy, then he would finally get acknowledge, and reach for his goal. It'd be a wonderful step. However, he didn't expect for the kid to fight back, by defusing all his bombs. This pissed Hayato so much.

_Just die! _He thought, as he doubled his bombs and threw them to the brunette, but he just defused all of his dynamites. Hayato was more pissed. Now, he knew the reason why this guy irritated him so much.

Sawada reminded him of _himself._

Tripling his dynamites, he didn't care anymore. He wanted to finish the brunette, and with his greatest technique so far, the silver–head threw his dynamites at him, but before he could do so, one slipped. Hayato saw every single thing that happened in his life. This was his end, the end from his own weapons. How foolish that he could laugh because of his stupidity.

He was going to _die_.

Hayato deserved it, anyway; he knew, a part of him wanted to. But, a larger part didn't want that. He wanted the Sky; he wanted to continue watching it like he always did whenever he was young until now. It was very painful – to be killed instantly because of a pathetic reason.

When he opened his eyes, he found out that he was _saved_. Hayato was alive. Sawada Tsunayoshi saved him.

Hayato decided that having Sawada Tsunayoshi as his own element is not bad at all.

. . .

. . .

. . .

Since then, Hayato didn't need to look up.

Sawada Tsunayoshi was there, as the personified 'Sky' of his.

Hayato figured out that there was really nothing up there, except for _his_ Boss only. Sawada Tsunayoshi proved that there was a sky after all, and Hayato would be at ease, whenever the Tenth was around. He started to feel calm, even if he didn't watch from below to above the heavens every single day.

He liked how Tsunayoshi called him by his name; how the brunette would relieve him all of his stress whenever he fights to death for him if someone stabbed him right in the back. He liked how the brunette would always smile at him, and how he never wavered in showing a bright and happy glow.

Hayato liked Tsuna.

The Tenth Boss would be often there for him, waiting at the gate when the classes were over. They would walk home together, and have fun with the rest of their friends, with the Guardians, with the whole Family. Whenever there would be an event at Namimori, they would always be there, and Tsuna would be the first to invite him watch the fireworks and play together with the rest of the Family. The two of them were inseparable, and Hayato would found himself smiling back at Tsuna warmly.

He never thought that the 'Sky' could be so warm like the Sun; he even thought that the sky was even brighter than the Sun.

He loved it.

Hayato _loved_ the 'Sky'.

But, he disliked how Tsuna would break down in front of him, when he thought that Tsuna would always be beaming with a glorious aura. How he wanted to soothe the brunette, tell him that everything's going to fine, and that he didn't need to worry, but that was far from the truth of their obstacles and problems; in fact, those were _only _the beginnings. Tsuna would even apologize of having Hayato seeing him sob, seeing him _weak_ even when they first met, and Hayato would only stay by his side, until he gets better. That was the only thing he could do, and there was nothing else.

Ever since, Gokudera Hayato swore himself to be the Tenth's Storm Guardian, as his friend who'll never leave his side, as his most trusted right–hand man.

He would never fail to serve his 'Sky' ever.

Hayato would always, _always _stay by his side; he'll become Tsunayoshi's sword and shield, and he would die anytime just to save the Tenth.

Most of all, he promised himself that he'd never see the Tenth shed his tears again.

* * *

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

Hayato gazes up at the sky with his dry, turquoise eyes.

Ten years ago had passed since he first met him, his_ own_ 'Sky' – Sawada Tsunayoshi.

_What is really up _there_? _

The tall, silver–haired man would ask himself, the same thing he asked to his younger self a long time ago, and he would never be bored of how many times those kind of queries would pop in his mind out of all sudden.

"_Just the sight of one another, just the sight of our smiles, was enough to fill our hearts with the joy of seeing each other again," _the young Vongola quoted, and somehow, the Future Gokudera Hayato disliked how his Boss told them that. Tsunayoshi was a liar; he was a great, big liar. Even so, Hayato, the fool he is, is still supporting him by his side, even if he left him alone.

_But, how come does it give _warmth?

It is because it is _him_ – that is the only explanation. Tsuna is _Tsuna_, and Hayato cannot blame him for being himself. Tsuna can never be anyone else, that's why he is able to radiate such warm, that it even touched his icy soul. However, that _warmth _which made him laugh, which made him smile, is no longer around.

The last time the pale–haired adult held the Tenth's hand is when they were about to bid him their last goodbye, his _last_ farewell for real.

Hayato hates it so much – he hates how much he became so useless after so many years together with Tsuna. The Storm Guardian hates how much he cannot do something for Tsuna, but to stare at his still and unmoving figure within that cursed black wooden piece of... _Shit_, he curses himself.

He holds his unshed tears within him, for he has no _right _to weep for him. Hayato _already _lost all of the things that have filled his heart until now, and he hates himself so much for even losing Tsunayoshi. Such hatred is cannot be told by words, but with the pain and sorrow he feels.

He clearly remembers how much Tsuna supported him throughout the years with his plans, how much Tsuna made him smile… and that he lost such valuable things is too much to consider. Hayato clearly remembers how much he struggles desperately to reach out his hand, and take them back – those cherished recollections – he had with his Sky.

He even clearly remembers how Tsuna fell in front of him; how the Sky turned lightless starting that day they attacked the Vongola with no warning, starting with their leader – that white-haired man who eats those goddamn marshmallows playfully while his forces fought them – how the brunette smiles at him in his last moment, saying that it isn't his fault, and that he is even assuring him that everything is going to be alright and will go back to the way they were soon.

He hates how helpless he is, how he let Tsuna get fatally wounded by one of that white freak's men. Hayato is supposed to be his _shield_, damn it! He _is _supposed to be the one to be shot! He _is _the one supposed to _**die**_! But, all he did is mourn like what all of them did for him!

As his feet carry him through the forest's grounds, Hayato can only bite his lower lip, and clench his fists hard, until he feels crimson liquid flowing from his palm inside.

Hayato wants to struggle again, to reach out for that moment and reverse time, even if like the wind, how he lost all of what's precious to him would slip once again through his invisible hand, looking as though they would reach him, but will _not_.

He feels his chest tightened by loneliness and despair, by his need of him by his side. How he wants Tsuna to be with him again, to smile at him, and they'll laugh together out loud like idiots. He feels his heart break with every footstep he takes as he walks towards the place of that person's grave. Tsuna's smiles remain the most in his memories, making it hard to even continue more, but it always encouraged him to move forward, and that he shall do, even though he is to fall apart and fade.

But…

"_Gokudera_–_kun, what're you doing there? Come on over here! It'll be fun!"_

"_Eh? N_–_No, you don't need to do that much for me! …I cannot simply abandon a comrade."_

"_Hey, let's go here again all together next year, Gokudera_–_kun!"_

Hayato really wants to return to those days once more with Tsuna. He wants to make it alright in that time and he'll continue to smile often at his side, close beside him. He'll _never _really leave him, even if he wishes for him to leave. He'll always be there to protect the Sky once again. If he can just turn back time… what will happen afterwards? Will they avoid this? Will he be the one to fall instead of his Sky? If that's so, then he'll gladly find a way to turn time again.

But, Tsuna forbid him, no matter what; the Tenth seemed to foresee what he will think after his death. He also clearly remembers how he stayed near the Boss at that time, when there was a Storm occurring in the area, and how Tsuna called for him. They were alone in the Tenth's room, and he wondered what Tsuna wanted him to do. Hayato was ready for anything Tsuna would ask of him, he was ready to eradicate anyone he wanted to erase. He was assured that he'd do anything in his power to get the Tenth's wishes done, even if in a bloody way…

"_Hayato_–_kun, no matter what happens to me, please keep in mind to never meddle. Let things be the way they will be, alright? That is a favor I ask of you. Please always stay strong, if anything were to happen to me." _

Tsuna asked him that with a smile, a different smile he had always used, and it was more painful for Hayato to resist.

"_W_–_What are you saying, Tenth? Of course, there'll be __**nothing**_ _to happen to you! I'm here, and as your right_–_hand, I will always be here to protect you!"_

And now he realizes what Tsuna meant with that. Somehow, the brunette knew his _death _– that is how Hayato feels about it, but he cannot doubt the Tenth; he never will. But, seeing him smile again, even just for once, is a wish he only wants. That is all he can ask for, if he can ever see him again.

Hayato is contented by staying with his side always; he is satisfied when he can do Tenth's wishes without fail, and it hurts him so much that he now disobeys an order he last received from Tsuna. The Storm Guardian, against his wishes, still decided to go to that person's resting place deep within the heart of the forest, well–hidden against enemies.

He gazes up in the Sky, and wonders out loud the questions he last asked his mother and the questions he didn't want to repeat again, yet…

"Hey, Tenth," the lustrous–haired right–hand man speaks to himself, as he grins bitterly at the fine heavens above him. Beads of tears roll uncontrollably from his turquoise orbs, as he shuts them slowly, letting them dry their selves fast on his cheeks.

"Are you in this endless sky?"

* * *

–––'_The Me of that time, who holds the biggest possibilities, shall come soon.'_

* * *

"EHHH–! WHY AM I IN A COFFIN…!"

Hayato's thoughts snap back to reality, as his hands wipe the shed tears he held for so long. That voice… he cannot be mistaken! Quickly, he runs through the forest floors, for the Tenth's place is just a few walk from his position from where he is, and what he sees is…

"You're…" is the first and only thing Hayato states in an unbelieving matter, as he walks towards the awoken dead from his black coffin. Slowly yet surely, he walks towards the boy, as his shock is clearly displayed on his face.

"Huh? T–That face, it can't be…"

He feels his wall closing in on him, as his big hands holds his small shoulders, his knees falling on the soft grass below him. Hayato cannot believe it! Tsuna _is_ here! He's… alive, and well, and he's _here_! Hayato starts to say every apologizing word to him; of how he didn't save him, of how he didn't protect him… he wanted to say all which formed from within his heart. Overflowing feelings, shattering emotions… all are overwhelming in this rare moment.

A miracle it is for five minutes.

But, still, he is happy, happy for he has seen Tsuna once again. His only wish is given, and five minutes is enough. Quickly, he tries to hide his pained expression from the young Tenth, to hide the truth he must not know, and he resumes his professional mask, even though he can still hear his voice shake out of happiness.

From his pocket, he shows the Tenth from ten years ago that cursed man's picture, the picture of his future murderer. Hayato wants to do the dirty work himself, and not stain the young Tenth's hands immediately, but there is no choice; if the Tenth can just tell his younger self, then, hopefully, the younger Hayato will know this man's threat to the Tenth.

"When you get back, you must eliminate this person immediately! …There's no need to hesitate."

The younger Tsuna, quite baffled with what he just said, nervously asks him, but he just turns him down, even though he didn't want to. In the future, _another _future where they'll meet again, Tenth will know why, so it's okay not to give other details; besides, they only have five minutes.

Hayato pauses, when Tsuna gives him a hesitating smile, as he asks, "Why is the future me… in a coffin?"

Should he know? Should he say? Should this happen? A lot of questions enter Hayato's mind. A lot of sorry, a lot of things, there are numerous of those he wants to tell Tsuna.

"That is… because…"

But, the next thing he knows, he is surrounded by a bright light, and he can't help but to shut his eyes.

"_The Me of that time, who holds the biggest possibilities, shall come soon."_

Is this true? The Storm Guardian cannot believe what he just heard; it's his voice of ten years later, a voice with a confident tone, a kind voice highly respected and praised.

As he drifts to a far–off memory, Hayato finally realizes something.

He is an_ endless sky_ he searched for after all; he'll come back.

* * *

As far as the Storm Guardian of the Vongola could remember, Gokudera Hayato is not alone.

He is not alone.

_Not anymore_.

* * *

..._fin_


End file.
